Peace On Earth angst ending
by Sare Liz
Summary: L/R angst ending to the Pretty Trilogy


#  Peace On Earth 

_ I'm sick of all this  
Hanging around  
Sick of sorrow  
Sick of pain  
…  
And you became a monster  
So the monster will not break you  
-Peace on Earth, U2  
_

Charles rolled down the hall with his young burden in tow, barely having to concentrate to keep her asleep and walking next to him, so little did she fight it. Instead, he expended his energy trying to prepare a plan of therapy for her. Despite the obvious and prolonged trauma she had been through, Xavier knew how resilient she was. A talk with Jubilee and Kitty would be called for - they seemed to be the closest to her in age. Making sure they were there and non-judgmental would be key, and after that it should be natural. 

Some rage session might be in order. Xavier believed it was high time he introduced Rogue to the joys of the Danger Room. That would help immensely with the therapy, giving her a physical outlet for the pent up emotions. And of course it would be beneficial should she decide to join the team in a year or so. 

The therapy itself wouldn't be too strenuous. Work on her self esteem and assertiveness. Now would be a good time to further address the various men in her head - she'd been given time enough, he thought. 

And then of course there was the matter of Logan. 

Xavier sighed mentally. 

It certainly would bring mixed reactions among the team, but there was no feasible way to avoid it. Not when the happiness of two people who had found a way into his heart was in the balance. 

He could hear Jean's arguments already, for she of all of them was the only one who would really have a problem with it, because what it boiled down to was that Ororo and Scott would want what was best for Rogue, while Jean was still attracted to Logan and it clouded her judgment. 

She's too young. He's too harsh. She needs stability. He couldn't commit. There would be other ones too, more trivial than these but in the end they were both adults and both in love. It saddened Xavier that he would have to remind Jean of that. Jean, his first student, his pride and joy. 

Xavier would definitely need to talk with her. 

But first things were first. Into Rogue's room. 

Open the door, dear. Yes, now the light. Turn down the bed and take your shoes off. That's right, into bed now, make yourself comfortable. Are you comfortable Rogue? Good. Now listen to me, listen to me very carefully. You are in your own bed, safe and warm. Safe and warm. Safe and warm. All the voices in your mind are already asleep, a happy, calm, dreamless sleep. Deep asleep. Deep asleep. They are quiet. You are going to sleep, too. You're very tired and you need the rest, so you will sleep until you feel better. Sleep until you feel better. Sleep until you feel better. Sleep until you feel better. 

Sleep. 

Turning out the light and exiting the room quietly, unknowing of the damage he'd done, Xavier made his way to the lower levels, to Cerebro. 

It was only minutes later that he was comfortably installed in the room and the headset, searching. Logan would probably be going east, then north, back to Canada so it wasn't as difficult or time consuming trying to find him as it perhaps might have been. Though he had several hours as a head start, there was only one main highway, the I-90. And… there he was, just before the city and the Canadian border. 

Xavier brushed at the back of his mind, not wanting to shock the man into an accident. Sitting there, he allowed the older man to become used to his presence before he called out to him. 

||Logan|| 

||What the fuck?|| 

||Logan, this is Xavier.|| 

||Well, no shit. Who the hell else would it be? And while you're at it, what do you want?|| 

||Rogue needs you.|| 

Perhaps he should have worked up to that somewhat. The panic in Logan's mind was alarming. But then, perhaps not - any other way might not have been suitably effective. 

||Is she…|| Images of Rogue flashed through Logan's entirely too morbidly creative mind. Bruised. Crying. Dead, in a pool of blood. Dead, with the pill bottle still in her head. Screaming. White, with blue lips, frozen in the snow. Trapped in a truck, flames around her. Dead, clinging to Erik's machine. Dead, lying on the metal medlab table. Dead, in the grass, head at an odd angle. 

Xavier spoke quickly, in an attempt to quell the images before Logan lost control of the motorcycle in his panic. 

||She is alive.|| Behold, the relief. 

||She's okay?|| 

||Physically, she's fine. But she needs you nonetheless, Logan.|| 

||If she's okay, then… I don't think that'd be a good idea, Chuck.|| 

Xavier sighed. Why couldn't he see? He wanted to tell the man that Rogue loved him, but it wasn't his place. He couldn't deprive her of that moment, knowing now how long she'd waited for the courage. Xavier would just have to make Logan understand some other way. 

||Your letter devastated her, Logan. Please, please return. There is still so much that needs to be said.|| 

Xavier could feel the older man's heart hardening against him, and quickly. He had perhaps time for one more argument before the mental shields he himself had trained with Logan to acquire were up en force. 

||Logan, she needs to speak with you. If you don't return, she _will_ follow. Could you handle it if something happened to her?|| 

Xavier could feel the pain he'd caused the man, but to no avail. 

||She's a big girl, Chuck. If she needs me, she can come find me.|| 

And that was that. Charles left Cerebro only to realize later, much, much later what havok he'd unintentionally wreaked. 

* * *

Logan scowled at the TV above the bar, taking a long drag on his cigar. Fucking X-Men. At least he didn't have to see Scott's shining visage on the evening news anymore. It was Storm, always Storm these days. And it was a lot, these days. Anti-mutant shit on the rise, UN peacekeepers dispatched, and those fucking _Sentinel_ machines. Fucking military warzone. Land of the free - whatever. Magneto had it dead on. 

Not that he cared. He had his cabin, and his forest, his privacy, and a little piece of something that smiled and served him drinks, besides whatever else he felt in the mood for. And best of all, no one knew a damn thing about him, particularly the mutant thing. 

He glanced back to the screen to find Ororo still there. Must have been something big. He watched for a moment more, disinterested but with nothing better to do than to drink and smoke and try not to remember. When someone landed behind the Weather Goddess, and whispered in her ear, attempting to pull her away from the camera, the TV suddenly had his undivided attention. 

Possibly because that previously flying someone had a white streak in her hair. 

Logan could barely contain the need to feel his claws rip out. 

"That bitch," he growled under his breath. The one who had taken his heart, peeled it open and eaten the insides. The one was supposed to have followed him. Xavier had all but fucking promised him she'd follow. The lying bastard had made it sound like a fucking threat. 

Logan had waited three years. Three fucking years, every day thinking that maybe it would be that day that she'd come. 

And then he called. He wasn't a complete asshole after all, and after all, he'd still loved her then. Some annoying kid answered and when he'd asked for her, was all confused. Said no one by that name lived there. Logan chewed the little shit out, not knowing what was going on, but scared. Scared as all hell. 

And that's when Mr. Perfect, Mr. I Got A Monument In Times Fucking Square, What's Gonna Go On _Your_ Tombstone picked up the line. Gave Logan some shit about how she couldn't come to the phone now or ever, and he hoped he was happy, and this was all his fault, and if he'd just come home when he fucking well should have none of this would have happened, and there would still be a Rogue to love his sorry ass cause God knows no one else could put up with his shit. 

Logan had mourned her for three more years. Only the forest had given him solace, letting him be feral as he needed to be until he could move on. And he did. 

He'd seriously thought about going back two or three times, once back in the first year, but his pride wouldn't let him. Once again after he'd talked to One-Eye. He'd wanted to pay his respects, but didn't want to fight anyone to do it. Once again after he'd heard the about it on the news. Again, he'd wanted to pay his respects - even if he had been a complete prick at all times, he'd had a good bike, and that was something to respect, besides that he had cared for Marie too. But that was just it - if Logan said goodbye to Scott, he'd have to say goodbye to Marie as well, and he just couldn't. He wondered how many years it would take to really get rid of the pain. 

Twelve, he realized with the certain clarity of thinking that cold rage brings. Twelve fucking years he thought she was dead, and now there she is, dragging Ororo back into the fray? 

He'd fucking _pined_ for that bitch. He had _mourned_ for her. All the time she was merrily skipping about her business. She couldn't have even done him the courtesy of a tiny bit of fucking truth. 

It was enough to make a man consider The Brotherhood. 

* * *

Twelve Years Earlier: 

Jean walked into Rogue's room after having knocked several times. She knew the Professor had induced sleep, but he'd done it before, it had always been beneficial, and Rogue should have been up and around by now. 

"Rogue, honey, it's lunch time. You need to get up, you have a couple of long days ahead of you. Rogue? Rogue…" 

Jean's brow furrowed in concentration. She shook her gently, then harder, then harder still. With a worried breath, she dug deep into her front pocket, hoping she'd remembered to carry a pair of latex gloves today. 

With a sigh of moderate relief, the doctor donned them, rolling the young girl slightly to check for a pulse. With a great sigh of relief, she smiled. The beat was strong and steady. 

"You really had me going there for a minute, you faker." 

And still there was no response. 

"Rogue? Rogue…" she sighed impatiently. Wondering about the ethics for a brief moment, she shook it off and placed her hands on opposite sides of the girl's head. Steadying herself mentally a moment before gently probing against any possibly barriers, Jean was surprised to slip easily into Rogue's mind. 

Rogue's unreasonably quiet mind. 

There should be something more going on. Much, much more going on, even in sleep. The mind was rarely quiet, save in mediation, and Rogue of all people had a particularly active mind. Hell, she had a stag party going on in her head. 

But not now. And then with terribly finality it dawned on Jean, what could be wrong. But she would have to run tests. Yes, mustn't jump to any conclusions until we run the tests. 

Tests, Jean thought, backing up, hands shaking. Tests. Because the Professor wouldn't have put her in a coma. He couldn't have put her in a coma. And, even if he did, he put here there, he could take her out again, couldn't he? 

  


* * *

Title: Peace On Earth   
Author: Sare Liz Gordy [TeknoVamp@yahoo.com][1]   
Archive: Email me and it's yours  
Disclaimer: People with more imagination than I created them, and people with more money than I own them. Also, all hail Bono and The Edge.   
Author's Notes: Please note that this is Diebin's fault. If you take issue with my choice of happy ending versus non happy ending, please direct all comments to her. She goaded me down this path, so I felt the need to rewrite the formerly foof and PWP ending into something vaguely more tragic. ::smiles:: On that note, do enjoy. 

* * *

all works archived are sole property of author - used with permisson  
please do not rearchive without contacting authors involved  
Copyright 2001 

   [1]: mailto:TeknoVamp@yahoo.com



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